


Blowing Off Stress

by Triangulum



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, College Student Stiles, M/M, Oral Sex, Stetopher Week 2017, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 12:15:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12481368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Triangulum/pseuds/Triangulum
Summary: "Save me," Stiles hisses under his breath desperately.Stiles doesn't know what he's expecting, but it isn't for hot stranger to chuckle. He leans forward, lips brushing Stiles' ear as he says, "All you had to do was ask, sweetheart."OrSave me from this awful dude hitting on me at the bar.





	Blowing Off Stress

**Author's Note:**

> It's Stetopher Week 2017! Thanks to TriDom and Triscuitsandsoup for setting this up! This is for today's theme of popular settings, in this case, meeting in a bar.

Stiles is so done with Clay or Trey or whatever his name is. Stiles had been having a pleasant conversation with the hot stranger next to him, with Clay/Trey had sidled up to Stiles' other side, insinuating himself into his personal space. Stiles had tried to back up, but that just bumped him into hot stranger's bubble. So Stiles had resigned himself to trying to deal with the pretentious dude hitting on him who doesn't seem to understand the word 'no'.

"Of course, this was on a yacht in the Caribbean," Clay says, very impressed with himself. Stiles just nods and downs the rest of his drink. Clay notices and snaps his fingers at the bartender. "Another drink for him."

"No, I'm good," Stiles says.

"Don't be silly, it's on me," Clay says.

"No, I understand that, I'm still saying no," Stiles says.

Clay looks honest to god confused, as if no one has ever turned him down before. 

"It's just a drink," he says.

"Look, you seem like a nice guy," a lie, "but I'm just not interested in - "

"You have this all wrong," Clay says, leaning forward until he's nearly touching Stiles, his smarmy smile still in place. "I just want to talk to you."

Stiles feels like banging his head against the table. Normally, he would be just fine with making a scene, possibly dramatically throwing his drink in Clay/Trey's face, but this is his favorite bar and he really doesn't want to get kicked out. 

Clay turns to talk to the bartender again and Stiles groans. He glances to the side and sees hot stranger looking at him with vague amusement. It's really not fair. Hot stranger has a thick neck, artful goatee, piercing blue eyes _and_ he'd been talking to Stiles about his dissertation, which was actually helping! Instead of continuing, Stiles gets shanghaied by Clay/Trey.

"Save me," Stiles hisses under his breath desperately. 

Stiles doesn't know what he's expecting, but it isn't for hot stranger to chuckle. He leans forward, lips brushing Stiles' ear as he says, "All you had to do was ask, sweetheart."

Before Stiles can ask what he means, hot stranger is pressing up against Stiles' back, wrapping a possessive arm around his chest, right under his collarbones. When Clay turns around, it's to the sight of hot stranger at Stiles' back, arm around him, his nose brushing his temple. Stiles swallows hard and tries his best to not look startled.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Clay asks, clutching his whiskey. "Who are you?"

"Peter Hale," hot stranger says, not offering to shake Clay's hand. Stiles' heart stutters because he knows the name Peter Hale. He's one of the top defense attorneys in the state, the subject of many of his father's headaches. 

Clay doesn't seem to recognize the name and tries to bully past him, which is amusing in a certain sort of way. "Well, Mr. Hale, we are in the middle of something, so if you don't mind," Clay says and makes an honest to god shooing motion with his hand.

"Hmm, I think I do mind," Peter says. He presses a kiss to Stiles' neck and it takes all of Stiles' self control not to moan and let his eyes flutter shut.

"Kyle," Clay tries.

"My name isn't Kyle," Stiles says, leaning back against Peter.

Clay huffs and Stiles thinks he might be finally ready to go away, when another man comes up and kisses Peter on the cheek. He's compact and fit, probably a couple years older than Peter, with striking blue eyes and a beard flecked with gray that Stiles would love to get intimately acquainted with.

"Who do you have here?" the man asks Peter and Stiles' heart sinks because the jig is most definitely up. Peter's boyfriend, partner, whatever, is probably going to break Stiles' nose for getting up close and personal with him.

Peter doesn't seem too concerned though. Stiles subtly tries to move away, but Peter just tugs him back against his chest.

"Christopher, this is Stiles," Peter says. "I think he would be fun to take home and play with."

Stiles' ears have to be tricking him. He risks a look at Chris and doesn't see anger like he'd expected, but a heated curiosity. Stiles swallows hard, making Chris smirk. 

"Mm, wonderful," Chris says appreciatively, dragging his eyes down Stiles' body. 

Clay clears his throat, trying one more time to turn the attention back to him, but Chris shoots him a withering look that makes him deflate.

"The adults are talking now," Peter says. "Run along and try to find someone that actually wants to talk to you."

Clay glares, but seems to recognize that this is a fight he won't win and storms off, heading towards the other end of the bar. Stiles sags in relief. Starting a bar fight really wasn't on his list of things to do tonight but if Clay had tried to touch his thigh one more time, Stiles might have said fuck it and punched him anyway.

Before Stiles can disentangle himself from Peter, Chris is sitting on the stool Clay vacated, casually leaning against the bar. Stiles swallows hard. Chris doesn't look angry per se, but it's hard to tell. 

"Uh, thanks for the save," Stiles says. He has to clear his throat a few times to get the words out. "That was one offer I wasn't interested in."

"Are you interested in us?" Chris asks.

Stiles' brain nearly short circuits, because they can't be implying what he thinks, can they?

"It's not a trick question," Peter says. His possessive arm falls away from Stiles' chest and he steps around him to lean against Chris, whose arm automatically wraps around Peter's waist. "I was serious earlier. We'd love for you to come home with us."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Chris says. "But you're more than welcome to join us."

And really, Stiles can't think of a better way to blow off midterms stress than by spending the night with two hot older men. 

"Yeah," Stiles says with a nod. "That uh, I'd like that."

Peter grins and leans in. He gives Stiles plenty of time to pull away before cupping Stiles' jaw and kissing him. It's relatively brief but in no way chaste, and when Peter pulls back Stiles feels slightly dazed. Peter looks immensely satisfied and Chris is smirking at him a bit.

"He likes getting that reaction," Chris says. 

"I do, especially when I have a lovely boy like you," Peter says and okay, Stiles has a daddy kink, okay? He can't help the shiver at that. "Shall we?"

Stiles nods. He pulls out his wallet and sets a $20 down on the bar for his drinks, then follows Peter and Chris out. Stiles climbs into his jeep and takes a few deep breaths before starting it and following their black SUV out of the parking lot. He'd only had two drinks over the course of a few hours and he's more than fine to drive, but he needs to calm his nerves. 

At the stoplight, Stiles takes a deep breath like his therapist had taught him when she tried to get him into meditation. He's not scared at all, maybe slightly nervous, and very excited. This is straight out of a masturbatory fantasy and he tries desperately to will down his erection, because he'd hate to have to walk into their home with tented jeans.

It doesn't really work because the whole drive is filled with Stiles imagining what their hands are going to feel like on him, their mouths, their cocks. By the time Stiles is parking behind the SUV in their driveway, the front of his jeans are uncomfortably tight. 

Chris and Peter are waiting from him by their SUV, and Peter immediately tangles his fingers wit Stiles' when he's close enough, Chris leading them up the path and into the house.

"You bring guys home a lot?" Stiles asks as Chris locks the door behind them.

"Occasionally, not often," Peter says, stepping close to Stiles and running his hands up his arms. "When someone catches our attention."

"So, you guys are really okay with this? No awkwardness or hard feelings or anything?" Stiles asks.

"We're more than okay with this," Peter says, mouthing at Stiles' throat.

Stiles looks to Chris for confirmation and Chris nods. "I enjoy watching Peter get fucked. And I have the feeling I'm going to enjoy fucking you."

Stiles' mouth is dry and he nods rapidly. "I am so on board with that," Stiles says.

"Good," Chris says.

Peter tugs Stiles down a hall to his left. Stiles tries to adjust his pants as he walks, but it's no use. It doesn't matter anyway, as soon as they're in the bedroom, Peter is on him, tugging him out of his clothes. His shirt ends up on the ground, followed quickly by his pants and boxers. He'd feel self-conscious about being the only one naked, but then Chris is standing against his back. He's very obviously not wearing clothes either, his hard cock pressing against Stiles' ass. 

"Mm, gorgeous," Peter says, placing another kiss to Stiles' throat. 

"You are," Chris says. He reaches around, hand resting on Stiles' lower abdomen, just inches from where his cock is hard and red. He rests his chin on Stiles' shoulder, watching as Peter strips. Peter makes a production of it, slowing pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his well-muscled chest. Stiles groans, making Chris laugh. "Beautiful, isn't he? He's been dying to have you fuck him since he first saw you."

Peter's pants fall to the floor and he's wearing nothing underneath, his cock thick and hard between strong thighs. Stiles desperately needs to touch him, wants that weight on his tongue. Peter lies on the bed, legs spread wide, like the best wet dream Stiles could ever have.

"Go ahead," Chris says, nudging Stiles forward.

Stiles doesn't need any more of an invitation than that. He crawls onto the bed between Peter's thighs, eyeing him hungrily. Stiles licks up Peter's cock from base to tip, then swirls his tongue around the head before swallowing him down. Peter curses, tangling his fingers in Stiles' hair. This is something Stiles knows he's good at, finally finding a use for his oral fixation, and he does everything he can to take Peter apart. 

He's so focused on licking and sucking at Peter's cock that he doesn't notice Chris moving until his hand is running down Stiles' back and dipping down the crack of his ass. Stiles moans when Chris presses a slick finger against his hole, sliding in slowly. Peter tightens his grip on Stiles' hair, hissing in pleasure at the vibrations from Stiles' throat. 

"Here," Chris says, setting something down near Stiles' hand. A glance down shows him it's a bottle of Sliquid lube. "Open him up. I want to see you fucking him."

Stiles pulls off Peter's cock with a pop to slick up his fingers. Peter jacks himself slowly, watching Stiles with a heated look in his eyes. Stiles traces his finger around Peter's hole, earning a groan. Peter spreads his legs wider, giving Stiles more room to work. One finger quickly becomes two, and Stiles goes back to sucking Peter at the same time.

It gets harder to focus once Chris presses two fingers into Stiles, rubbing over his prostate. Stiles whines, tries not to lose his rhythm on Peter's cock, but Peter gently tugs him off.

"It's okay, sweetheart," Peter says. "No need to split your focus."

Stiles rests his head on Peter's thigh, crooking his fingers inside Peter and making him groan. Stiles loves that sound, loves watching Peter's face, his eyes closing when Stiles brushes against a particularly good spot. It's a lot, opening Peter up while Chris fingers him, but it's worth it. 

The closest Stiles has come to a threesome is tipsy fooling around with a guy and his girlfriend at a college party before it had been busted by an RA. This is different. Chris knows what he's doing, opening Stiles up with practiced ease. Peter's face is blissful, like what Stiles is doing is perfect. Stiles loves this part, loves fucking someone on his fingers until they're breathless with the need to be fucked.

"I'm ready," Peter growls, wrapping his hand around Stiles' wrist. 

"Okay, yeah," Stiles says.

Stiles pulls his fingers from Peter with a squelch and takes the condom Chris hands him. Chris does the same, his fingers slipping out of Stiles and leaving him mournfully empty while he puts on a condom. It gives Stiles time to situate himself between Peter's spread thighs, setting the tip of his cock to Peter's wet hole. He presses forward, just enough that the head pops through the tight ring of muscle, making Peter groan.

"Good boy," Chris murmurs, running his fingers over Stiles' loose hole. "He loves being like that, spread open and full."

Stiles moans as Chris grips his hips, pushing him forward, guiding him deeper into Peter. Chris' hard cock is nested against Stiles' ass and it's easy to be overwhelmed between them. Peter feels so good around him, hot and tight and Stiles quickly loses himself, thrusting harder and deeper. Peter watches him with heated eyes, groans of pleasure slipping past his hips.

Chris lets him do as he wants for a few minutes before stilling Stiles, bending him forward until he's on all fours, hovering over Peter. Peter seizes his opportunity and surges forward, kissing Stiles roughly, a hand twisting in his hair. Stiles whines into Peter's mouth as Chris thrusts into him, forcing him deeper into Peter's ass. Peter chuckles, nipping at his lower lip.

"Come on," Chris says, slapping his ass. "Don't stop now."

Stiles moans and rocks back onto Chris' cock, then thrusts forward into Peter. Fucking himself between them is incredible, whether it's the wet heat of Peter around him or onto Chris hard, thick cock, the pleasure is bubbling under the surface. Chris stays still, making Stiles fuck himself on his cock if he wants any stimulation and it makes him desperate and needy.

"Stop teasing him, Chris," Peter grits out.

Chris chuckles and kisses Stiles' neck before gripping his hips and thrusting forward. Stiles shouts, sliding deeper into Peter. Chris fucks him hard, each thrust pushing him deeper into Peter, both of them moaning out their pleasure. Peter wraps a hand around his hard cock, stroking himself to the sight of Chris fucking Stiles.

"Peter's not going to last much longer," Chris says, grinding his cock into Stiles.

Stiles whimpers, eyes on Peter. Chris is right, Peter's eyes are closed, the muscles in his stomach bunched up as he tenses. He lets out a beautiful moan and a second later is coming, painting his stomach and hand white with his release. Stiles hisses, the clenching of Peter's hole feeling incredible around his cock, but then Peter is pulling away, Stiles' cock slipping from inside him. He settles next to them, watching intently.

Before Stiles can mourn the loss, Chris is fucking into him hard and fast, much faster than he had been before. Stiles collapses forward onto his elbows, arching his back. Chris grunts with each thrust, hitting Stiles' prostate often enough that Stiles can feel his orgasm building. Stiles tugs his condom off and takes himself in hand, stripping his cock to Chris' thrusts.

"That's it," Peter croons. "Let us see you come."

Stiles is shocked he's lasted this long to be honest, and isn't surprised when his orgasm crashes through him. His whole body trembles with the force of it, pleasure bursting across his sense as he comes. It's the hardest he's come in a long time, and it takes his breath away with the intensity. He collapses forward, gasping for air. Stiles starts whining, oversensitive, and Chris pulls out, pulling off the jacking himself off roughly. 

"Come on him, mark his pretty skin," Peter says, slapping Stiles' ass. 

Stiles whimpers, jerking under Peter's touch. A moment later, Chris is hissing and coming over Stiles' back, panting as he releases over Stiles' skin. He collapses on Stiles' other side a second later, breathing harshly. 

It takes a while for Stiles' brain to come online again, and when it does it's only because Peter is using a shirt to wipe off the come cooling on Stiles' back. Stiles really hopes it's not his shirt. He shifts around until he's on his back. Peter is on Stiles' left, propped up on his elbow and looking down at him, and Chris is on Stiles' right, lying on his stomach with his face tilted toward Stiles.

"Wow," Stiles says. 

"Mmhmm," Chris hums, like all the energy has been zapped out of him. 

"You were everything I'd hoped," Peter says, draping his arm over Stiles' waist. Stiles didn't think it'd be possible for him to blush after everything they'd done tonight, but apparently he's wrong. Peter laughs and kisses him when Stiles tries to bury his face in his shoulder. "No need to be modest now."

"Stop teasing him," Chris says. He slaps at Peter's shoulder, then lets his arm curl around Stiles right under Peter's. "Sex makes Peter insufferable."

"You think I'm always insufferable," Peter says.

"Am I wrong?" 

Peter huffs a laugh and cuddles closer to Stiles, resting his forehead against his temple. 

"God, I'm glad that dude hit on me tonight," Stiles says.

"To be fair, I was going to ask you to come home with us before he even sat down," Peter says. 

"Less talking, more sleeping," Chris says, tightening his hold on Stiles. 

Stiles would love to argue that, because he's a talker, thank you very much, but he's warm, sated, and sandwiched between possibly the hottest men he's seen in real life. Yeah, sleep doesn't sound awful.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me on [ tumblr ](http://www.hotpinklizard.tumblr.com).


End file.
